


Taking a Break

by springbok7



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: AU, F/M, Feral Behavior, Feral Fluffiness, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Rogan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-17 03:42:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1372651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springbok7/pseuds/springbok7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, we have to give up control to get control. Sometimes, we have to give up more than control. </p><p>But, sometimes, it's all worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lachlanrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lachlanrose/gifts), [dr_girlfriend](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dr_girlfriend/gifts).



> So, I've very sorry I haven't updated my 50 Reasons fic for a while. My laptop hard drive crashed back in Nov and I was very busy dealing with that and some other things, and then when I went to edit the next chapter in Jan, I discovered that my backup copy did not have any of my notes for the rest or the chapter I'd written. Very very frustrating, and I can't seem to get the pieces back together right. It will come to me, it always does, eventually, but it may take a while. Sigh.
> 
> This fic was inspired by a bunny that popped into existence after rereading a couple other fics about Marie and Logan. The darn bunny wouldn't leave me alone, kept gnawing on my brain the little nippy bastard, and so here we are. So, blame Lach and Doc, it's all their fault!
> 
> I'm still very new at posting fics and this is not beta-ed, so I welcome constructive criticism (but please keep flames to yourself, my tender skin burns easy =P) Anyway, hope you enjoy it :D

The staccato **cry** of a bird a few yards away woke her from a deep sleep. She could hear the leaves rustling in the strong breeze as the night grudgingly gave way to dawn. She lay still for a while, enjoying the warmth of her nest, and thinking. She tried to remember, there was something... the woman had let her free, but there were conditions... and there was something important she was forgetting, she felt it fluttering at the edge of her mind like a butterfly, but she could not catch it and it slipped away from her. She huffed a growling breath and gave up for now.

She stretched herself, feeling the muscles pull and play under her skin as she stretched her arms backward, arching her spine and rolling her shoulders. As she moved, she felt the slight slide of the second skin she wore. It was the woman's rule, that she could only run free if she wore it, but that was a small price to pay for this time of freedom.

She examined her feet and hands, making sure that the second skin was settled properly around each toe and each finger, before wriggling fully free of the pile under which she had been sleeping. The pile smelled of her, with faint traces of other scents, but mostly it smelled of her, as it should. Old shirts, wool and fleece and cotton, were jumbled together with pieces of cloth, remnants and discarded blankets. Altogether it made a most satisfactory nest for her, and she took immense comfort in the scent that filled the space. No other creature dared venture within her cave, and no trace of any could be smelt, even with her sensitive nose. But, she couldn't remember how long she'd been here. Nor what had been, before here and now. All she knew was this forest, and this cave, and that the woman had given her this time to herself, as a gift.

She pulled a shirt from the pile and dragged it down over her head. The second skin covered her fully, but the fine mesh was far more vulnerable to dirt than she was, and she was also afraid the branches and thorns of the forest would damage it. The woman had made it clear that the second skin must remain intact, or her freedom would be over. Remembering that, she pulled on the soft foot coverings that the woman had left for her. She refused to wear the cumbersome and uncomfortable hard foot covers the woman considered appropriate, but the second skin might not withstand the rough rocky ground of her cave and her forest, so they compromised, and the woman had left her the soft foot coverings. They let her feel the ground and at the same time kept the second skin safe.

Her third skins arranged, she shook herself from head to toe to settle everything into place before pacing forward out of the cave. It was a good spot, the cave was deep enough to let the nest at the back be protected from wind, rain, and snow, no matter how violent a storm might hit. The mouth of the cave opened beneath a short but sheer cliff-face on the slope of a large hill, and the ground in front of the cave was rocky and open for several meters, allowing a full view of any creature approaching from the forest that surrounded the hill. It really was a very easily defended location, and she was happy to have laid claim to it.

Sniffing the air, she bounded into the forest. The summer breeze brought hints of interesting scents to her, and she thought she smelled wild blackberries. Although always happy to sink her teeth into good red meat, she loved blackberries, and nothing beat a breakfast of freshly picked fruit.

She padded through the trees, following her nose, until she found the tangle of berries. The twisting stems had managed to climb several of the nearby trees, making the berries easy to pluck without having to reach through the thorny branches. She picked and ate leisurely, uncaring of the purple juice that stained her lips and face and coloured her fingers.

When she'd eaten her fill, she went searching for a stream and drank. The clear water quickly washed away the blackberry juice from her fingers, but the stain remained, a mute testament to her uncarnivore-like love of fruit.

As she was sitting on a broad rock near the stream, enjoying the warmth of the sun that was slowly peeking through the tall pine trees, she heard the crack of a tree branch breaking. As she looked up at the clear sky, it seemed strange that a branch would crack with barely any wind. She heard another, smaller crack followed by a soft thud as the branch hit something hard.

She climbed to her feet, listening intently. She heard nothing.

She lept down from the rock and began moving in the direction the sounds had come from. She stopped every so often to listen, and sniff the air. Unfortunately, the light breeze was blowing across her path, so no scents were available to warn or reassure her of what had caused the broken branches.

As she moved cautiously towards the source, she heard another branch break, crashing down to the ground off to the side. She veered towards the sound, a growl rumbling low in her throat. This was her territory. No other predators, no bears, no mountain lions, were foolish enough to encroach, and if any dared, she would defend her place and drive them off. Or kill them, if they were so foolish as to not understand that she was the top of the food chain in these parts.

The wind shifted suddenly as it was wont to do, and she smelled something. A strong scent of pine and cedar, leather and... something else, pungent and acrid, like the smoke from a burning tree. It had undertones that she could not identify but somehow... it smelt familiar, but she did not know why.

The soft growl in her throat grew more intense. Familiar or not, this was her territory! How dare this creature invade her lands! There had been no invitation given, and none requested, so the interloper must be shown the error of their ways and forced to acknowledge her supremacy or depart.

The scent grew much stronger, and she burst suddenly into a clearing and came face to face with the intruder.

He spun to face her, gleaming claws extending from his hands held ready to attack. As he turned, she realised that he had been using those claws to cut at the trees surrounding the clearing. Many trees sported slashes across their bark and branches littered the area, many more than she had heard fall, but a few had ragged ends, as though he had not cut through cleanly, and they had broken off, unable to support their own weight.

As he caught sight of her, the gleaming claws retracted back into his arms and he straightened and took a step forward, and spoke. He used the same hard-to-understand non-growling sounds as the woman, but whereas the woman almost always sounded calm and steady and made certain she understood, his voice was neither calm nor steady and the sounds rushed from his mouth in a torrent. He shouted and his hazel eyes snapped at her. She could smell the angry frustration pouring from him.

He took another step towards her, and that was the last straw. Who did he think he was, to growl and shout the non-growling sounds at her, invading her land and disrespecting the territorial boundaries like this?

Without even thinking, she growled again and lept for the intruder. She would teach him a lesson, teach him what a mistake he had made and drive him away, allowing her to return to her peace and her sun-baked rock.

He seemed surprised at her attack, and that allowed her to close in and land a punch on his jaw. She did not fight as a wild thing, biting and scratching with no purpose. As soon as she had engaged him, her body seemed to flow along lines and follow patterns that were not conscious decisions but somehow seemed... right.

As he stepped back in shock, she saw an opening and took it, delivering a solid kick to his side. He barely moved, and she could feel the heavy weight of him when her foot connected. She darted away and circled around as he settled into a crouch and brought his arms back up into what some part of her brain recognized as a defensive stance.

He did not attack, but watched her with his hazel eyes, tracking her as she moved, pivoting to follow and prevent her from circling behind him. She darted in and made contact and darted away again, almost taunting him. He wasn't responding properly, and she was confused.

She began huffing small angry sounds, as she circled and attacked, and finally he began to move, to follow her as she darted away, to begin to initiate contact instead of only defending himself.

As they began to circle each other, the intensity of the encounters increased, until they were both landing solid blows, bruising blooming across their skin before fading quickly as their respective healing factors kicked in. Blood marked them in numerous spots from cuts that had opened and closed. They stank of sweat and blood and anger as the sun climbed higher in the sky and shone down directly into the clearing.

She flipped her dripping hair out of her face and paced back and forth, like a caged tiger, a silent snarl twisting her features, until she saw him shift his stance as he watched her with golden eyes, telegraphing his intention of delivering a punch, and also opening up his side for another attack.

Lightening fast she darted in, fully intending to land another blow on his unprotected midriff, when suddenly she was flying through the air, landing with bruising force face down on the rocky ground. As she lay there gasping, one arm was twisted up behind her and held in a firm grip, just short of painful. Her other arm was trapped between her hip and his thigh, where he straddled her and pinned her legs with his knees and feet. She tried desperately to buck him off but she had no leverage and his weight settling on her felt like a small mountain held her down.

Hissing and spitting in frustration, her struggles became even more desperate and frantic as she slowly realised she could not dislodge him from her back.

Suddenly, his weight shifted and she felt his hand bury itself in her hair. She whipped her head around to try and bite him, but he was too fast and stopped her motion before she reached him. He pulled up on her head, arching her spine while at the same time tightening his grip on her arm. It was impossible to move any part of her body but her scrabbling feet, and she went limp as she figured that out. The unthinkable had happened, she had been defeated, she was no longer top dog, and she shivered at the thought.

As he felt her go limp, he leaned forward and whispered something in her ear, but she did not respond, too dazed and in shock to even begin trying to understand the non-growling sounds he made.

Getting no reaction from her, he leaned in closer and growled at her, and this time the message was received loud and clear: submit, or else.

She whimpered, and shifted her head as best she could given his hand still tightly wrapped in her hair, to expose her neck, yielding to him, and acknowledging her defeat.

He made a huffing sound of satisfaction as he leaned back and shifted his weight. She felt him move, and hoped he would let her up soon, but instead she felt a hand brush her hair from her neck and then a stinging pinch that burned like fire for a few seconds before the man, the forest, and the rocky ground beneath her disappeared into blackness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews = blackberries... aka love ;D


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is a little short but the next one is quite a bit longer, hopefully it will make up for it. Plus if I don't post this already I'll just keep editing it. It is unbeta-ed though.

She groaned as she swam through murky swirling darkness towards consciousness. Her head felt wrong, thick and heavy and slow, like the viscous mud that sucked at her feet near the stream by her cave.

She was lying on her side on a thin mat and she pushed herself up carefully, her head protesting every movement with sharp twinges of sensation that were not exactly painful, but felt strange, like the world around her was spinning and she would fall at any moment, even though she felt the solid ground beneath her still.

She closed her eyes and leaned against the wall along which the mat lay, and hoped that the spinning, falling sensation would stop. After a time it did seem to lessen. She cracked her eyes open, and was grateful that the spinning did not increase.

Two arm-lengths in front of her was a grey wall, not rock like her cave but some other substance that looked smooth in the dim light. She looked at it blankly for a time, still feeling muddled and confused. Her nose itched, and she sneezed, which caused the room around her to wobble and slide around her once more.

Rubbing her nose absently with her hand, she turned her head... and froze. The man, that man, that strangely familiar interloper of a man, was sitting sprawled lazily in a chair, watching her, on the other side of bars that closed off the room she was in.

She stared back at him groggily for a while as the spinning and dipping of the room slowed and finally stopped, and the fuzz that seemed to coat her mind faded away.

As she sat there staring at him, she began to feel angry, and as the minutes passed she grew angrier and angrier. The woman had promised her freedom, and she had done nothing to break the conditions the woman had given her. But there were bars across the room. She was trapped, caged, again.

Not only that, but she had yielded to the man! She had lost the fight, and had acknowledged the fact, albeit by force but still, she had acknowledged her defeat... and he had attacked her again! She remembered clearly the sharp pinch at the base of her neck, and she lifted her hand to touch the place. She breathed a silent sigh of relief when her fingers brushed unmarked skin. She had been sure she would find some gaping wound. But the fact that there wasn't any did not negate the fact that he had attacked her after she had yielded. She had definitely yielded, and by doing so should have been allowed to leave the contested territory untouched. She would certainly have afforded him that, had she been victorious and he the one yielding to her.

She snarled at him and growled menacingly. He stared back at her, his hazel eyes unblinking. She surged to her feet, rushing forward and colliding with the bars, but they did not budge. As she gripped the bars and snarled at him again, his eyes darkened and he slowly stood, still not making a sound. As he paced forward she held his gaze, not dropping her eyes or showing any deference. He didn't deserve it after what he'd done.

When he was standing directly in front of her he released a soft chuff of air, like he was pleased, though she had no idea why. But that only served to infuriate her more, and she lashed out through the bars, raking her sharp fingernails across his cheek and causing blood to well up and drip down into his sideburns.

His eyes flashed gold, and before she had a chance to react, he'd swung the bars inward, knocking her to the ground and crowding in over her. She instinctively backed away from him, the rumble in his chest a warning she could not ignore. His gold eyes bored into hers as he advanced on her slowly, a hulking shadow against the lit room behind him, herding her backward in the narrow room, until her back collided with the wall.

She could smell the stench of his anger, and also the scent of his satisfaction as her own fear stink filled the room, but she couldn't look away, couldn't turn her head, couldn't bare her neck, couldn't do anything but stare back at his fierce golden eyes that held her as securely as his body had trapped her in the forest.

As he crouched down in front of her, she felt her terror spike and her paralysis gave way to frantic action. Her eyes darted past him to the open bars and she pushed herself up, trying desperately to slip past him and to freedom.

As fast as she was, he was faster, and before she even made it to her feet he had her pinned, covering her body with his own. She struggled, biting and scratching and scrabbling against the ground, certain with every bone in her body that he would kill her at any moment, mewling in her utter terror.

But instead, he managed to get his arms under her, and pulled her against his chest, twisting his legs around hers to still her frantic kicking, holding her wrists gently but firmly in his large hand, and securing her arms against her with his. He rolled to his side and just lay there, holding her tightly while she struggled, still certain of her imminent demise. However, he had her held such that she could get no leverage, couldn't bend her arms to free her hands, couldn't bend her knees to free her legs. She was trapped and going nowhere unless he decided to let her go.

As they lay there, her whining slowly decreased and finally ceased, and she lay against him panting for breath, with every muscle tense, waiting for his next move. He chuffed a breath of air onto the top of her head before nuzzling into her hair and rubbing his nose and cheek against her scalp. A deep rumble began in his chest as he kept rubbing his face into her hair, and she slowly calmed down enough to realise that his scent no longer carried the stink of anger, but concern and a little fear.

She turned her head towards him and looked at him over her shoulder with wide eyes. He pulled his head back a little as he felt her movement, calmly gazing at her from golden eyes. He whined a little, almost a question. Her muscles went limp all at once, and when he felt the tension leave her, he let go of one hand and pushed himself up into a sitting position against the wall, and in the process pulling her into his lap. He seemed to almost cradle her against his chest, practically purring to her as he tucked her head under his chin and stroked her back, while keeping the other arm firmly around her and her ankles pinned beneath his thighs.

As she lay against his chest, her breathing slowed, and her mind settled, and she sniffed at him tentatively. She could smell the pine and cedar and the acrid smell that she did not recognise, but also, faintly... she buried her nose in the second skin he worn and sniffed again... before pulling back and looking up at him in surprise. She smelled herself on him, and not just from him carrying her to this place. She smelled herself on the white second skin that he worn under the many-coloured third skin that covered his arms and body.

He reached up a hand and stroked her hair back from her face before leaning in and licking a fast swipe up the side of her face. She shivered at the touch, shaken at the familiarity of the tasting, as if he'd done it many times before, and then buried her face in his third skin again, letting the scent of herself on him reassure her.

The rumbling in his chest increased again as he pressed her to him, and some base instinct told her she was safe, and could sleep. She was so tired, even her body had limits, and fighting this man twice in one day had clearly pushed her to them. And as he heard her breathing even out and felt her settle into him, the man settled himself securely against the wall and closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reviews = a logan hug >:D


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't as long as I promised, cause I sat down to write "A" chapter and somehow vomited out the rest of the fic almost in one sitting. Rather than posting a mega chapter I've split it into sections, to give me smaller chunks to edit. Hope no one minds :D

The next morning, dawn barely breaking, she awoke with a start. She was still curled up against the man's chest, with his arm wrapped around her loosely.

She shivered a moment and then crept free of his relaxed limbs, crossing the narrow width of the room and crouching against the opposite wall. She... did not know what to make of him. He had attacked her, but also held her while she slept. She was confused.

His eyes opened as she moved, hazel and warm as he watched her studying him.

Moving slower than she thought possible, he drew his feet under himself and crouched against the wall. He held his hands out towards her, showing her his empty palms, before carefully rising. He made the non-growling sounds of the woman, rising intonation at the end sounding questioning, and slowly pointed at the door of bars that stood open at the end of the room.

She looked at the bars, and then looked at him again, and he repeated the gesture, and the sounds. And then whined ever so slightly as his eyes flashed gold for an instant.

She rose to her feet warily and padded out of the room, keeping him always in sight, just in case. As soon as she was past the bars he took a single step forward, and then paused while she tensed and automatically shifted her weight onto her toes.

He again showed her his empty palms, and waited for her to relax. He seemed to have infinite patience at some times, and none whatsoever at others. She reaffirmed her earlier thought: this man was confusing.

When he took a second step forward, she gave up ground, backing away a step of her own. She knew he moved fast, she wanted as much separation as possible, just in case, but without giving the impression of retreat. She did not retreat. No, she refused to do so. She would concede to leaving forfeited territory after losing a fight but she would not run away from this confusing, confusing creature who smelled of her and him, who fought and snarled and growled like a beast and yet had gentle touches and non-growling sounds and softness like the woman.

Once he had moved far enough forward to be free of the room with the bars, he turned away from her and with his back to her, padded on bare feet towards a wooden box that ran across the width of the room, against the wall. There was another wooden box hanging on the wall at shoulder height, and when the man took hold of a knob and pulled, she recognised that the two boxes were not single boxes at all, but individual compartments that each had doors on them.

She stood rooted to the spot watching him, puzzling around the idea that he had turned his back to her. Was he showing her that he was so confident in himself that he no longer considered her a threat? That he dismissed her as unimportant? Or that he trusted her not to attack him as soon as his guard was down? That he expected that she would wait for him, and not immediately run as soon as his attention was elsewhere? She shivered in confusion, and bit down the whine that clawed its way up her throat.

He reached into the compartment he'd opened and withdrew a package, shiny and smooth. With practiced ease, he tore a strip from one side of the package and an amazing meat aroma filled her nostrils. Her mouth watered immediately and her stomach expressed its interest by voicing its own growl into the silence.

The man huffed in satisfaction before turning and placing the package on a wooden surface halfway between the cabinets on the wall and where she stood, and then returning to the cabinet and opening a second package, taking out a strip of dried meat and biting into it as he leaned back against the wood behind him.

She looked at the package on the table and then back at him, and then back to the package. He pointed at her and then at the package and then at her again before taking another big bite out of the piece of meat in his hand.

She took a step towards the table and he huffed a breath around a mouthful of meat, seeming pleased that she had understood. She took another step, and another, until she could just reach the package with her outstretched hand. She snatched a handful of pieces from the bag, spilling a good deal of the rest out of the bag and onto the table, before retreating, no, before putting some solid distance, between herself and the man. There was a window, a large expanse of glass in one wall with another wooden box in front of it, and she backed up to the box and then climbed up and crouched there, feeling slightly better for having the illusion of the outside next to her. She used her teeth to tear a strip from one of the pieces in her hand, and then looked down at them in surprise. The dried meat tasted very good!

The man chuckled at her reaction, but made no move other than to continue to eat from the package in his hand.

She slowly consumed the meat clutched in her fingers, keeping an eye on the man while she did. Once she finished, he pointed at the package on the table and then at her. When she didn't move immediately, he repeated the gesture but did nothing else.

Carefully, warily, she returned to the table and snatched up the package, shoveling most of the spilled pieces back in before backing away again to resume her perch by the window.

Even after he had eaten all the meat and placed the empty package on the surface behind him, the man did not move, just watched her out of the corner of his eye as she ate. He did not stare openly, did not challenge or attempt to exert himself, he just watched.

Once she had picked the last tiny pieces out of the bag, she laid it on the wood by her feet and looked over at him, questioningly.

He grunted and stood up out of his lean. He made questioning non-growling sounds and then shrugged his shoulders when she did not respond. She spared a moment of regret that she had not paid more attention to the woman's non-growling sounds, but she hadn't really cared, and so here she was. She understood the intonation of a question versus something else, but the meaning of the sounds were lost to her.

She looked around, and spotted a wooden door in the opposite wall from where the man stood. She hopped down from the box and tilted her head at the man. He grunted again and stepped forward. She backed away a step and he whined at her. He didn't like her constant avoidance... but, she still didn't trust him.

He pointed at the door, and then at her, and then at himself. And then at the door again.

She got the message, and edged towards the door, careful to keep him in sight while she did. When she reached it, she pushed against it, but it did not move. She tried the other side, but that did not move either. She whined and looked at him.

He chuffed at her gently and slowed his forward motion until he almost crept nearer, letting her see every movement before he made it. She still backed away, but not too much and not so far. He was trying. So was she.

He pointed at the dull knob at one side of the door, and demonstrated how to grasp it in hand and twist it and then pull, to cause the door to open. Then he pushed the door shut and backed away, clearly giving her the space to open the door herself. He was trying, trying very hard to show her she could trust him.

She did as he had done, and pulled the door open, and with a quick glance at him she darted out into the pale sunshine of the early morning. He rushed out after her, fear spiking in his scent, but pulled up short when he caught sight of her sitting on a wide rock near the treeline. The rock would be pleasantly warm in the afternoon, and there was a brisk breeze blowing through the clearing, a perfect combination for some sunning. But not yet. She was finally outside again, and shook herself from top to bottom with the pleasure of it. She really didn't like being inside, not knowing how to get out. Her cave was nice, there were no barriers between inside and outside, and she could clearly see the outside even from her nest at the back. It was a comfortable feeling, knowing that there was no restriction.

She eyed him across the clearing, thinking, and then made up her mind and jumped down to the grassy carpet that covered most of the clearing. She mimicked his motions with the food and the door, pointing at him, then at herself then at the forest. He raised an eyebrow at her, clearly a question, and she repeated the gesture.

He grunted and thrust his feet into a pair of those nasty hard foot coverings that the woman favoured, stamping his feet to settle the coverings and bending down to tie loose knots in the strings attached to each. As he straightened, she turned and lept between the trees.

He followed at a slower pace, reassured when she stopped every little while and waited for him to catch up. She didn't trust him, but he tried his best to show that he trusted her. Even though there was nothing he could do about the small spikes of fear that coloured his scent each and every time he lost sight of her between the trees. Nor the flood of relief as he would break out into an open space and she'd be sitting on a rock on the other side, waiting.

Eventually, he broke through the trees to find himself standing on the bank of a wide pool of water, a small waterfall off to the left splashing down over the rocks. She was sitting on another smooth rock, her face turned up into the rapidly warming sun, but she looked toward him the moment he stepped between the trees. He had given her food, so she had given him water.

She crouched at the edge and drank from her cupped hands, and then scooped another handful from the pool and held it towards him. Even though the water quickly trickled between her fingers and down her arms, he got the message and came to the water's edge and scooped himself a drink, crouching only a few arms' span away from her. She watched him, wary again at his proximity.

When he flicked his fingers towards the pool to shake off the water, and an errant drop flew towards her, she had an idea. She did not trust this man, but he had given her food and had accepted the water she had given him. She saw no reason why they couldn't have some fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reviews = an icy glass of lemonade on a hot day <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, this is one of my annual "crazy weeks" at work.

She bounded up onto the flat rock and then dove gracefully into the pool, delighting in the shiver of the cold water against her skin. The second skin might cover her from neck to toe, but the mesh did nothing to prevent the water from caressing her skin, and she loved it.

She broke the surface with a laugh and looked around for the man. He was standing in the same spot, watching her with his lips twitching into a slight smile.

She submerged again and swam towards him, carefully gauging the distance until erupting from the pool not five feet in front of him and showering him with water, diving backwards and kicking away before he could respond.

He was still standing there spluttering when she emerged on the other side of the pooling, laughing in delight at his reaction. She loved the water. She felt so free when she swam.

He huffed, and glared, and suddenly bent down and loosened the hastily donned foot coverings he was wearing, stepping out of them and placing them further away from the water. He removed his many-coloured third skin as well, leaving only his white and blue second skin. She didn't quite understand how his second skin could have different colours, hers was a uniform shade that closely matched her own skin. But, she supposed with this strange man, anything was possible.

While she was thinking about the marvels of second skins, he finished securing his coverings and marched straight into the water, directly for her. She waited until he was chest deep in the middle of the pool before sliding under the water and swiftly swimming off to the side, towards the waterfall.

The pool was frequently crystal clear and one could see easily even the tiny mosquito fish that nibbled on tidbits among the rocks on the bottom. Today, however, the pool was somewhat murky. A good rainstorm had passed through two day prior, stirring up the muck. The man's steps across the bottom did nothing but contribute to the fine bloom of sediment in the pool, and she was easily concealed from even his keen sight.

She popped up a few feet behind him, and had sloshed water over his head and vanished before he could get turned around.

She saw that for all his speed on land, in the water his movements were more sluggish and he moved like his body weighed twice as much as usual. As she made note of these from her hiding place by the waterfall, she saw a wry quirk of his lips and he moved away from the middle of the pool, out to where the water was only waist deep for him. And there he stopped, folded his arms and huffed a breath, clearly waiting for her to make the next move.

Challenge accepted, she sank below the surface and frog-kicked towards him. She circled behind him again, careful to keep close enough to the bottom to leave the surface undisturbed, but far enough from the muck between the rocks to avoid betraying herself by leaving clouds of silt in her wake.

She swam up behind him, planted her feet on the bottom and grabbed his ankles, heaving up with all her might. She knew from their fight the previous day that he was heavy, much heavier than she had expected from his size, but she was strong, and succeeded in displacing one foot completely. Combined with the pressure on the other, she was able to pitched him forward and dunk him under completely, before streaking away again.

He came up roaring, but she smelled no rage, no anger, no aggression at all. In fact... she paused to sniff the air... he smelled... relaxed... content... happy... like he was enjoying himself.

She yelped as she felt a hand on her own ankle and came up spluttering and flailing as he returned the dunking.

Once she cleared the water from her eyes she could see him, standing not six feet in front of her, laughing.

The sound of his laughter sent a delicate shiver up her spine and for some reason that she could not identify, it relaxed her in a way nothing else he had yet done had been able to.

She grinned back and then scooped a splash of water at him. Before they knew it, they were chasing each other around the edge of the pool, dunking each other when they could sneak it in, splashing each other when they couldn't, both laughing freely as they did so.

He had a nice laugh, it soothed her, a deep rumble that seemed to start in his belly and gained volume and power until it erupted from his mouth. She decided that she rather liked it.

Finally, as the sun tipped over and began its slow descent into afternoon, they waded out of the water and flopped down on the nicely warmed flat rock where she had waited for him to catch up. He lay sprawled out, arms flung wide and legs dangling over the side. She sat a few feet from him, with her legs drawn up, leaning back on her arms with her head tipped up to the sky.

Neither moved for a long time, content to soak in the sun and listen to the sounds of the birds and small animals that had finally forgotten the presence of two predators in their midst.

As the sun began to dip beneath the tips of the pine trees surrounding the pool, the man shifted a little closer to her and lifted a hand, trailing a finger down her arm, gently tracing the outline of her muscle beneath the second skin and her own.

She tensed for a moment, lifting her head to stare down at his hand. When he did nothing more than run that single finger up and down her arm, she began to relax and made no movement when he shifted closer just a little more and let the full width of his palm follow the same path as his finger had, stroking gently, slowly, up and down her arm.

He shifted closer again, but not so near that she could feel the heat of him, and his hand moved from her arm to her hair, hanging loose and wild down her back. He twisted strands between his fingers, looping a strand around a finger before letting it slide away. She leaned forward, not to get away, but to wrap her arms around her knees and lay her cheek atop them. Her eyes slid closed, though she did not sleep, as he alternately played with her hair or slide his hand under it and stroked her back.

They stayed like that for some time, content just to be, until the man's stomach gave a rumbling growl to match its owner's and she clapped her hands to her mouth to contain the giggles that were trying to escape. He humphed at her, and then thumped her back lightly before sitting up.

He slid off the side of the rock and then turned and held out his hand to her. She looked at it, and him in confusion, until he reached forward carefully, took her hand and pulled her to her feet. She looked at him and huffed gently, before walking over to the pile of his hard foot coverings and his colourful third skin. She grabbed the coverings as she had seen him do, pinching the walls between her fingers, and then carried the lot back to him, setting them down on top of the rock and then plopping down beside them, swinging her legs as she waited for him to put the foot coverings back on.

Once he finished, she jumped down and beckoned him to follow, leading the way through the trees, following the overflow stream downhill until they emerged from the trees into a broad meadow. She pointed at him, and then at the ground, looked at him with an air of expectancy. Once he nodded, she put her finger to her lips and bounded away into the grass, disappearing in an instance as she crouched down and made herself invisible.

Even though he felt sure she was returning, he couldn't help the spike of fear that curdled his guts. It wasn't as strong as what he'd felt when she'd darted out the door of the cabin, but it was there still, none the less.

After a time, he saw movement in the grass and she popped up in front of him, a dead rabbit firmed clamped between her teeth. She tossed it on the ground next to him and licked her lips, before repeating the pointing finger at him and the ground. He sighed, and nodded again, and she grinned and disappeared back into the grass.

The wait was longer the second time, but when she reappeared, she carried two rabbits, one in her teeth and the second in one hand. She huffed through her nose at him, and he sensed her grin even if he couldn't see it through the rabbit fur, though he saw it clearly a moment later when she deposited the two rabbits beside the first. 

Squatting beside her catch, she looked up at him expectantly.

He shook his head and she looked confused. He leaned down and grabbed one of the rabbits and then took a couple steps in the direction of the cabin, looking back at her, obviously waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reviews = splash fight!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, this one is longer and so took a bit longer to edit, hope you enjoy 'dinner and a movie' :)

She looked down at the warm rabbits in front of her and then back at him, before shrugging and lifting a rabbit with each hand.

They picked their way through the trees as the sun dipped lower and the sky took on the brilliant hues of sunset, golds and pinks and fiery reds.

The burning disc slipped below the horizon just as they reached the cabin, and the man set the rabbit down beside the door before heading inside, back to the area with the wall-hanging wooden boxes. She watched him from the doorway as he rummaged through the lower compartments until he stood, holding two metal basins.

Taking the basins back outside, he scooped up his rabbit as he passed and headed around the corner of the building, to an area that was littered with bits of wood and had an overhang that sheltered some tubs, tools, and a pile of wood, cut to similar lengths and stacked carefully between two tall posts. He squatted beside one of the tubs and set the two basins down. He extended a single claw and made four quick cuts around the rabbit's legs, before sliding the thin metal under the skin and slicing up and then peeling the fur off the rabbit like he had peeled off his third skin by the pool. 

Setting the pelt aside and the skinned rabbit into the top basin, he held out his hand for the next one, and she hesitated only a little before handing it over. She wasn't sure what he was doing, or why he wasn't just tearing into the meat since his stomach had already announced how hungry he was, but she didn't feel the need to push, and silently handed over the final rabbit when he held out his hand for it.

Once the three were skinned, he collected the three pelts and dropped them into a bucket of water standing beside the tubs. He rubbed them vigorously and sloshed them around before drawing them out one at a time and squeezing the water out of the fur and then dropping them into the tub. He used a small paddle to press them down into the mixture, wrinkling his nose at the smell of the disturbed liquid before covering the tub with the wooden cover that had been leaning against it.

Satisfied, he turned back to the three carcasses and proceeded to gut the rabbits and discard the offal into the second basin, which he set down near the treeline before rinsing off the rabbits with water he released from a large wooden barrel set up on legs against the side of the cabin.

Once all three were cleaned and rinsed, he carried the metal bowl of rabbit back into the cabin. She gave the container with the offal in it a wistful glance as she followed him back inside. It seemed a waste, but she was not overly fond of the bitter stomach and intestines. At least he had not discarded the rest of the innards, and she was looking forward to sinking her teeth into the tasty liver and heart.

He was rubbing a fine white powder over the outside and then the inside of the rabbits when she caught up with him, and she watched as he carefully skewered each on a long metal stick. He set them aside and built a fire in the open ash-coated pit in the center of the building, layering wood of different sizes in a careful construction before lighting the tinder and feeding larger and larger pieces of wood to it. When he was content with the size of the logs he was burning, he placed the skewered rabbits over the fire, and knelt, turning the skewers periodically with a long pair of tongs.

She squatted near the other side of the fire, closest to the door, so that there was nothing between her and the outside if she wished to leave. She watched as he adjusted the rabbits, turned them, flipped them around, and otherwise ensured that every part of the rabbits' surface was no longer raw. She was curious about the reason for putting the rabbits over the fire. Why do it when raw rabbit tasted so good? She was also curious about why he sat as he did, legs folded under him, tops of his feet flat to the ground, all his weight on his shins. It looked uncomfortable, and she did not think she would be able to spring up from that position if a threat appeared. Which brought her back to his odd behavior that morning, turning his back on a fellow predator... she still did not understand that. He confused her, still.

Finally, when she was firmly convinced that he intended to keep the rabbits over the flames until she starved to death, he pulled one close and poked at it with his finger and sniffed at it. Grunting, he shoved his hands into a pair of odd-smelling grey hand covers that had hung on a hook beside the pit, and picked up the three skewered rabbits. He flowed to his feet with a rocking motion and she had her answer to that question at least: he had no problem whatsoever rising quickly from that position.

He carried the rabbits to the wooden table and set them on a large shiny disc she hadn't noticed, sitting in the middle. Then he discarded the odd hand covers and went to grab a couple more shiny discs from the hanging boxes and some other bits and pieces that she ignored in favour of staring at the rabbits. They smelled so good and she was so very hungry!

He set the shiny discs on the table, one on each side, and then set one rabbit on each. He pointed at the far one and then at her, then pointed to himself and the rabbit closest to him, then picked up the shiny disc in one hand and lifted disc and rabbit closer to his mouth before using the skewer to hold the rabbit in place while he ripped a strip of meat from it with his teeth.

She watched a moment longer before stepping closer to the table. She grabbed the rabbit from the shiny disc with both hands and tried to bite into it, but the carcass was steaming hot and she dropped it back onto the disc, hissing at the pain and licking her fingers until the burns healed and vanished. She huffed in annoyance and glared at the man.

He quirked an eyebrow at her and waggled the skewer.

Understanding dawned. He was using the skewer as a... handle...? A faint crease appeared at the center of her forehead as she concentrated, something the woman had said once... She pounced on it, and understanding blossomed in her mind, a handle... the wooden knob on the door was a handle, she glanced at it over her shoulder. The knobs on the wooden fronts of the hanging boxes, those were also handles... and the skewer as well, it was a handle for the hot hot rabbit.

She chuffed to herself and grinned, pleased to have fitted the pieces together and solved one little mystery. She glanced back at the man, who was silently watching her while he ate, flicked her eyes over his hands and then copied him, lifting the shiny disc in one hand and holding the skewer in the other. The metal had cooled enough that it was only warm to the touch, and she sank her teeth into the rabbit and tugged away a piece.

As she chewed, her eyes widened in pleased surprise. It tasted very good! Not the same as hot raw steaming still twitching freshly killed meat but... good nonetheless. Before she knew it she'd stripped all the meat from the outside and without thinking she pulled the rabbit from the skewer and cracked it open, savouring the innards and then cracking the bones to suck out the rich marrow. She did not stop until there was nothing on the shiny disc but a pile of well-cleaned rabbit bone bits.

She finally looked up to see the man watching her with his arms folded across his chest, his cleaned bones in a neat pile on the shiny disc beside him. Her eyes flicked to the third rabbit and then back, a questioning whine escaping her lips before she even realised she'd made the sound.

He gave a slight chuckled and reached into a drawer beside him to withdraw a long shiny metal object with a black handle.

He stepped forward and pulled the final rabbit closer. He paused, and looked up at her. He held his palm up, flat and facing her, and patted the air. She cocked her head to one side, the gesture felt familiar but was another of those things that she could not quite place. She was jolted out of her questioning when he brought the shiny metal down on the rabbit, splitting it in half and barely stopping his downward swing before he hit the shiny disc beneath the rabbit. He grinned and then plopped one half onto her shiny disc, and she was extremely pleased to see both the heart and the liver nestled between the ribs of her part.

He wiped the long, shiny... knife...? on a cloth and then laid it on the wooden surface behind him before slipping the other half of the rabbit from the large shiny disc onto his own.

She made sure to lick every drop of the rabbit's blood from her fingers once she finished her half, not wanting to waste any part of the delicious treat.

When she looked up the man had finished his own and placed his disc on top of the large disc still sitting on the table. He pointed at hers and then at the pile, and she hesitantly placed her disc on the top. He scooped up the three discs and the knife and carried them over to a deep trough where he set them down and turned away.

He walked past her, picked up the chair that faced the long room with bars, and moved it over near the fire. He disappeared through a door on the opposite side of the fireplace from the barred room, and returned a moment later with a large shapeless brown thing, almost as big as him, that he dropped a short distance from the fireplace, and then sank down into the chair, stretching his legs out in front of him and tearing open another package of the dried meat he'd given her that morning. She hadn't seen him get it out of the cabinet, perhaps it had already been on the chair.

He seemed to ignore her, staring into the flames while he chewed slowly, the lines of his body relaxed.

She watched from beside the table for a long time, before moving slowly to crouch beside the shapeless brown lump. He'd dropped it close to where she had squatted to watch him while he cooked the rabbits. She sniffed at it when she reached it, and then poked at it with a careful finger. She could smell nothing from it but the man, and the surface felt soft. She stroked it carefully, and as her fingers trailed over it another vague recollection crossed her mind, this... cushion... was used to sit on, so that one was not sitting on the hard floor.

She gave the man another quick glance but he seems oblivious to her actions. She edged closer and then leaned her knees forward, letting the cushion take her weight. When nothing unusual happened, she shuffled further forward until she was sitting in the middle of the brown mass.

It was very soft and comfortable, and before she quite realised what she was doing she had lain down and snuggled into it, burrowing down into the softness.

The gentle crackling of the fire combined with the fullness of her stomach lulled her, and she absently rubbed her face into the soft fabric, breathing in the scent of the man as her muscles relaxed slowly, and without intending it, she sank down into sleep.

She roused briefly at some point when he picked up the brown cushion and her in it and carried both of them a short distance and set them down again. A gentle hand ran fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp, and she sleepily pressed into the soothing motion, and sank swiftly back into sleep.

When she awoke some time later, she still lay curled up in the heart of the brown cushion. She opened her eyes and saw the palest hint that dawn was coming soon. As she was about to snuggle back down, she heard an odd whimpering breathy sound. It sounded almost like the man... but he wouldn't make a sound like that... would he?

She pushed herself up, and looked around. There was another cushion, many times larger than the one she lay on, and the man was sprawled across it, a thin cloth tangled around his legs. She could see the sweat dripping down the center of his bare back and glistening on his arm.

She heard the breathy whimpering sound again and saw his hand twitching as a shudder passed down his lean frame.

Standing slowly, she stepped closer to the large cushion where he lay. Another shudder shook him, and another whimper forced itself passed his lips, and as she drew closer she could smell his distress, a mixture of fear, sadness, and something else she couldn't readily identify.

As she reached the foot of the large cushion, she tried to shake his foot to wake him, but as she touched his ankle, he drew his leg up into his body, rolling slightly onto one side and exposing his face to her.

His features were twisted in pain, and without conscious thought she crawled up the cushion, which was far firmer than her brown cushion, knelt beside him and placed her hand on his broad shoulder. Some instinct she could not name insisted that she comfort him.

He shook under her fingers, and in an instant he shifted, curling around her, pressing his face to her belly, and wrapping his arms tightly about her hips. Breathe hissed between his teeth as he exhaled and then drew air heavy with her scent in through his nose. He made a sound, part huff and part whimper, and then like a rag his entire body went limp, and she watched in surprise as his breathing evened out and he stilled, head on her thigh, one knee brushing against her tailbone as his arms loosely encircled her.

She knelt for many minutes, until her calves and thighs began to complain. She remembered that he had held this position far longer as he cooked the rabbits, and hadn't seemed the least discomforted by it, but her legs were screaming at her to move.

She shifted, trying to ease the strain, but nothing helped, until she managed to slide her rump off onto the cushion's surface. The man tightened his arms around her as she moved, and managed to keep his head firmly planted against her thigh. His body, however, loosened its tight curl around her and she was able to shift again, sliding against him until her legs were straight, to her relief, and his head was pressed firmed against the bottom of her ribs.

She tugged at his shoulder carefully, and was able to roll him towards her a little more, so that she could lie down properly, her back arched slightly over his arm while his shoulders rested against her hips.

Lulled by his even breathing, she soon slid back into dreamless slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reviews = peaceful nappin' with no nightmares :D


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we are again. Sorry for taking so long on this one, I got sick and then while I had a rough draft written, when I went to edit it, I realised that Logan and Marie were being entirely too sweet and loving, which wasn't at all how they'd told me they were going to be. And when I pointed out that fact to them, Logan just about flipped me the bird, and Rogue put in an appearance and got decidedly snarky. But, I was patient, and nicely explained that they could still have their sweet and nice, but they'd promised me that THIS chapter was a bit more on the other end of the spectrum. They finally agreed to work with me, and then they bloody well took off on me and the sweetness got shunted into the next chapter to make room for all the bits and pieces they got up to here. Sigh. Would some of you please have a word with them? 'Splain to them that these kinds of shenanigans are not on? I'd muchly appreciate it if someone would. After that last disagreement, I'm quite worried Logan might do something nasty to me, and I'm rather partial to my skin in one piece thank you very much! Anyway, hope you enjoy it, I fear I'm a bit rusty on the smut so I feel a wee bit nervous... let me know what you think, k?

When she awoke for the third time, it was long past dawn and the sun shone brightly through the windows that she now saw set around the walls of this room, which was not a room she had seen before. Glancing around, she noted the open door leading out into the room where they had eaten. This must be the room from which the man had retrieved the brown cushion.

She frowned down at the man draped across her belly. She had been dreaming something about him, something important. Something the woman had given to her to do, that she'd lost in the hazy not-time of living in the cave. She concentrated, closing her eyes and trying to draw together the jumbled fragments of the dream, attempting to make some sense of the pieces.

With a jolt, the half-glimpsed meaning became clear and she focused on the dual-natured man sleeping against her. The woman had set a price for her freedom in addition to the rules she had to follow, a price that she had forgotten until now. A price that she had half paid already, that first time among the pine trees when she and the hazel-eyed man had tested each other and he had caught her, and the wild golden-eyed one who had caught her a second time in that room with the bars.

She knew what she had to do, knew that her price was to pull those golden eyes out from behind the hazel, to pull the wild one into the light and out of the cage that the non-growling man kept him in. She did not remember or understand the reason that this was necessary, only that the woman had made it plain that this was important, so much so that days of her freedom were worth this one thing.

As she slid carefully out from under the still sleeping man, she considered the problem of how to meet the woman's price. She did not feel able to attack him again, he had already defeated her twice, and it went against all her instincts to challenge him that way again... however... she sniffed again... yes, there was definitely an alternative possibility.

She crept across the floor until she passed through the open doorway and into the main room where they had eaten. She spotted the over-sized third skin she'd been wearing when she met him and pulled it on, despite the assortment of tears and dirt and leaves that adorned it, thanks to that first meeting with the man.

Tiptoeing across the second room, she reached the door that led outside. As quietly as she could she turned the handle and pulled the door open, slipping out into the clearing that surrounded the cabin. Making no further attempt at quiet she crossed to the large rock near the treeline. She lay down and waited for him to discover her disappearance.

She did not have to wait long. He burst through the door a little while later, wearing only his blue and white second skin. He paused outside the door and sniffed the air. As he turned towards her, she sprang to her feet and darted into the trees.

He shouted something, but she could not decipher his meaning. She focused on speed, dodging between the trees to put as much distance as she could between them.

She heard him reach the treeline, he made no attempt at stealth, barreling through branches and brush that she had ducked under or leapt over.

He could track her by sight and by scent, somehow she knew that, so she headed straight for the pool where they'd played the previous day. Skirting it, she reached the overflow stream and stepped into the cold water, following it downhill for a time, until she reached a clearing containing some newly sprouted pine saplings.

Leaping up, she grabbed a low-hanging branch and swung herself up onto it. She padded closer to the trunk before diving forward, tucking and rolling as far across the clearing as she could, scooping up a handful of the fresh young pine needles to rub over her second skin.

As the needles bruised, the strong scent of pine enveloped her, tickling her nose. She managed not to sneeze, and then set off through the trees at the opposite side of the clearing.

Veering uphill again, she followed the course of the stream back to the pool, before circling around and crossing the track down from the cabin, heading across the hill. 

She moved silently through the underbrush, all her senses alert for him, but she had moved far enough away that she heard nothing. On a whim she climbed another tree and followed the web of branches for a time before jumping back down to the ground. She continued that pattern for a ways, randomly changing direction as she alternated between the ground and the branches.

Spotting another clearing, this one wide enough that a lush growth of grass covered the open area, she stepped out and surveyed the surroundings. It was perfect. A tall tree had once stood here, but it had lost its fight with gravity some time ago and lay stretching back into the trees of the forest.

Lying down in the grass, she circled around to flatten the grass comfortably, before curling up in the sun to wait.

She was starting to feel quite drowsy, and still he had not made an appearance. The sun had crossed over zenith a while ago, and yet she had heard nothing, no matter how hard she listened. Not even the birds or small animals had quieted, giving her a warning of his approach.

She sat up, feeling somewhat disappointed. She had been so sure that this would work.

As she turned, she saw him, leaning against a tree, firmly downwind of her, glaring at her with gold and hazel warring in his eyes.

She smirked at him, and let her lip curl in disdain as she held his eyes, watching the gold devour the hazel.

With a final glance, she flipped her hair over her shoulder and turned her back on him, sprinting away from him towards the fallen tree.

He reached her just as she drew level with the trunk, slamming her back against the wood as he spun her to face him. He was growling and his eyes were wild, seething with emotion as he held her wrists against the bark, her arms half trapped by the third skin that had slid off her shoulders when he spun her.

She smirked again, but could not disguise her body's primal reaction to his closeness.

He sniffed, and then leaning in on her, bared his teeth at her, growling aggressively.

Without conscious thought her head tipped back against the wood, exposing her throat to him... and she whined.

His scent flared, but before she could identify it, he'd closed the gap between their bodies, pinning her completely with his bulk and sinking his teeth into the flesh that joined her neck and shoulder.

Her whine morphed instantly into a yelp as his teeth broke skin, and a hot rush of wild emotion flooded into her mind as his lips lingered against her. She moaned at the intensity of the possessive feeling, mine-mine-mine swirled through her, and helpless against it, her hips bucked against his as her back arched into him.

Still reeling from the torrent, she barely noticed as he released her flesh from his teeth and pulled back, dragging her away from the tree and returning to the clearing. She stumbled to her knees as he let go of her wrist with a shove and stood over her, panting with his fists clenched.

Shaking her head to clear it, she looked up at him and saw the cords standing out in his neck as he struggled to control himself, gritting his teeth in a grimace. She shivered. The scent pouring off him was intoxicating, overpowering, delicious.

She leaned back on her hands, the third skin falling to the ground, baring her teeth at him in a parody of a smile as she looked up through her lashes. She licked suddenly dry lips as he glared down at her. 

He shuddered... and his tenuous control snapped.

He was on her in an instant, his hand buried in her hair as he shoved a foot between her knees. A continuous low growl emerged from his throat as he pressed her against him, his hair-wrapped fingers tightly clamped against her skull lifting her up slightly, so that he could rub her face against his groin and his stomach, marking her with his scent.

Her hands lifted, leaving the third skin forgotten on the ground, and gripped his hips through the blue second skin. Her fingers dug into him as she slide her body against his leg, her face, her chest, pressed against him wherever she could reach, further rubbing his scent on her, and hers on him.

As he curled in over her, she reached higher, rubbing against the white second skin, lifting her hands to his shoulders and pulling him down closer, so that she could burrow her head up under his chin, rubbing the back of her head against his neck.

He shuddered and whined as she progressed upward, his growl lost as he panted, each laboured breath drawing in even more of her intoxicating scent as she rubbed across his body, until she tipped her head back against his limp hand still tangled in her hair, and licked then nipped him on the sensitive skin right up under his chin.

He reared back and let out a loud growl as he felt her teeth, tightening his grip on her skull so that she could not follow his motion. He was pleased with her. He had pursued his prey, and caught her, and she had responded to his scent-marking with scent-marking of her own, and above all, she had acknowledge he was alpha.

Taking the next step in the ageless ritual, he stepped back out of her grip and bent her forward, holding her in place with one hand as he dropped to his knees behind her, shoving her knees apart with his own. He shook her in reprimand as she reached back for him, but she only subsided when he curled in over her, pressing his belly to her back, his thighs against hers, his chest firmly set against her shoulder blades. 

He was forced to release her head as he moved, but rather than attempt to wriggle out from under him, she pushed up on her hands and twisted her head, nuzzling up into his chest and licking a speedy stripe up his throat and across the same flesh she'd nipped moments before, much too fast for her skin's deadly pull to do more than convey a hint of his satisfaction with her actions.

He rubbed against her, his hips bucking as he sought purchase, and she whimpered as the combination of his scent, his motions, and his position ignited the fire already throbbing under her skin into an inferno. She panted as she pushed back against him again, seeking something, what it was she did not know, only that the places where he was rubbing against her seemed to be connected directly to the flesh between her legs, and somehow that flesh ached and dripped for him.

As she whined again and trembled at the intensity of the heat flooding her system, he pulled away. She began to turn around to see what was wrong, but his hand on her back stilled her, as did the short and firm growl he made.

She felt him shuffle backward, and shivered violently as she held herself still, unable to stop little whines from escaping her. She heard faint rustling over the rush of blood in her ears and their panting, then smelled an odd and unfamiliar scent, but before she could disobey his unspoken command and look, his hands gripped her hips and held her in place as slick firm flesh was pressed between her moist and aching folds.

A gasp forced itself out of her as he rushed forward, sinking into her until he was once more pressed tightly against every inch of her, thigh to thigh, hip to buttocks, chest to back, his hands releasing her hips to brace against the grass beside her fingers, his flesh within her filling her exactly as she needed, and she realised, with the small part of her that could still think, that this... this was what she ached for.

He nuzzled into her hair as he rolled his hips, driving himself into her and then pulling back and driving into her again, without releasing the full contact between their bodies. She moaned at the sensation of being surrounded and filled by him, his body curled over hers while their mingled scents coated every shuddering breath she took with a sense of rightness.

He maintained his even pace for a short time, rolling his hips steadily as she whimpered beneath him. Then, as the pitch of her whimpering rose, he pulled away enough to sink his teeth into the base of her neck, his lips this time protected by her hair. She mewled as the pain and the pleasure mixed and sloshed around inside her, no room left for coherent thought as he released her skin and pushed himself upright, his hands flat on her ribs for a moment before sliding down and gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises that had no chance to fade as his fingers flexed against her.

His pace rapidly increased until he was pounding into her, each thrust forcing her knees to skid across the grass before his grip on her hips pulled her back against him. She shifted, trying to brace herself, stretching her arms above her head and locking her elbows against the ground, but the grass was damp, and slick, and she could get no purchase on it.

Her shoulders dropped to the ground as she gave up all attempts to brace herself, pillowing her head on her forearms to protect her face from impact with the grass-covered dirt, and as her position shifted, his angle changed and white-hot fire exploded behind her closed eyelids. She yelped at the intensity of the pleasure and she both heard and felt his answering growl of approval.

He slowed, and thrust against her with careful purpose, each stroke sure and powerful and deep, and each hitting that same spot, the intensity of the pressure building, stoking the fire, sending her spiraling higher and higher, forgetting to even breath, her mouth open in a silent moan, her eyes unseeing, until the pressure peaked and exploded over her, her body shuddering and thrashing against the ground.

As the wave washed over her, the muscles surround him clenched tightly and he thrust into her hot depths one last time before his own release flooded through him, his hands locked on her hips, his lips pulled back from his teeth in an unintentionally savage snarl as his head fell back and he roared his pleasure and satisfaction out into the utterly silent forest.

She was finally his again, and he was not ashamed to announce his claim to the world.

He curled forward again, his fingers slowly releasing from her hips and his hands sliding up her torso, brushing over her ribs before slipping under her to wrap his arms around her. He straightened, lifting her with him, pulling her back against his chest, her head tucked under his chin.

He held her there for many minutes while their breathing gradually slowly and their hearts stopped trying to beat right out of their chests. She hung limply against him, her slender hands resting atop the thick muscles of his arms.

Finally regaining her breath, she twisted within the circle of his arms and nuzzled up under his chin, licking him again, too fast for her skin to exert its draw. She slipped her arms around him and snuggled into him, rumbling her contentment low in her throat.

As she moved, his flesh was dislodged from her and rubbed against her stomach as she plastered herself against him. Neither paid it any heed as they simply held each other, his throaty rumbling matching hers as the black of his pupils slowly shrank, allowing the gold of his eyes to reappear.

After a final nuzzle into her hair, he released her and pulled away, allowing her to see that his flesh was encased in a second skin she had never seen before. She cocked her head, curious, and gently touched the tip with her finger. His breath hissed between his teeth at the contact with his overly sensitive flesh. She looked up, startled, but he huffed a reassuring breath at her. But before she could touch him again, he tucked himself back inside the blue second skin, shaking his head at her.

Once he closed the opening, he staggered to his feet and grabbed her hand to pull her up. She glanced down at herself, and was somewhat impressed. The second skin that the woman had told her to be so careful of, had withstood its abuse very well. Her knees were stained green and brown from the grass, as were her elbows. The soft foot coverings were likewise stained green and brown, with some purple spots where she had previously stepped on fallen blackberries, but neither had any holes or tears in them. She was most pleased and hummed in pleasure.

He looked at her curiously, but she just shrugged, once again regretting that she had not paid more attention to the woman's non-growling sounds... but this one in front of her, this golden-eyed male, he did not make the non-growling sounds either. She liked that. Only when his eyes changed to hazel did he make those sounds, and do things that confused her, like showing her his back when he had no reason to trust her... though perhaps he knew what he was doing at that time, he had had every right to be as confident as he had been. She wasn't a threat to him, and he knew it, after all he had caught her and overpowered her multiple times now. She had not known his true strength, but he had known it from the start. She smiled at him, satisfaction oozing from every pore.

Her stomach picked that moment to complain and her male chuffed his laughter at the look on her face, before leading her up the hill, back to the wooden nest building, where his hazel-eyed human fed her interesting messes he released from metal prisons, that he kept stacked up within the wooden hanging boxes.

After he had fed her and himself, he built another fire and sat with her curled up on his lap for a while, just stroking her or holding her, her head tucked under his chin. Then he led her through the room with the brown cushion and the big cushion and into a small room behind the fire pit, where he released steaming water into a huge tub. He removed his blue and white second skin, and the strange skin that had covered the flesh between his legs, which had shrunk considerably since then, and she realised that the blue second skin and the white second skin were separate, not a single piece like her own second skin.

Clad only in his own skin, he picked up a small basin and dipped it into the water of the large tub. He poured it over himself and then took a yellow swath of material and rubbed it over a block that smelled very nice, not too strong but pleasant. He rubbed the yellow material between his hands until it was covered in bubbles, and then he rubbed it over himself, every inch of his skin, from his hair, down his neck all the way to his feet. Then he set the material aside and dipped the small basin back into the large tub repeatedly, until all the bubbles were washed away from him, running away into the opening that was partially hidden beneath the tub.

He held out his hand to her and she approached cautiously. He did not try to remove the second skin, for which she was grateful, but instead scooped a basinful of water and poured it over her, taking up the yellow, bubble-covered material and gently scrubbing across the second skin with it. He nudged her feet apart and washed her carefully between her legs, his hand completely wrapped in the material so that none of his skin would touch her. After he finished washing her legs, he stood and poured more water over her head, motioning for her to close her eyes before rubbing the suds into her hair. He scooped water again and again, rinsing away the bubbles from her head and body. 

He tapped her shoulder and when she opened her eyes, she saw him climbing into the tub. He gestured for her to join him, and she carefully climbed in beside him. He waded to the far side, and as he sat down she noticed that there was a bench under the water. He grunted to her, and when she approached, he pulled her down so that she was sitting between his legs, her back resting against his chest and his bare arms loosely wrapped around her waist. She leaned her head back against his shoulder, braced between his shoulder and neck so that the bare skin of her face would not touch him.

The water was quite hot, but not unpleasantly so, and the heat spread lassitude through her limbs. It had been a long day, the chase she had orchestrated had taken many hours, and had been fairly strenuous, and the activity afterward even more so. Her eyes drifted closed and her breathing slowed, and she was asleep before she quite realised what had happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reviews = umm, yeah, you know what I ~want~ to put here... ahem....


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the final chapter. A bit longer delayed than I planned, but a fiendish week at work and then agility seminars over the weekend ate up all my editing time :) Hope you guys enjoy it! It's been a blast writing this fic!

She opened her eyes slowly, confused for a moment as to where she was. She lay on the large cushion, the man's face pressed against her side and his bare arm slung across her hips. She pushed up on her elbows and looked down at him. His own skin greeted her, he wore neither his white or blue second skins.

As if the weight of her gaze had woken him, he yawned widely and opened his drowsy eyes, hazel and gold swirling together as he looked up at her. He harrumphed, and nuzzled into her belly, his tongue flicking out to lick a swath of skin beside her belly button. She could smell his arousal, and see the thick flesh that rested along his thigh. She shivered as her mind flashed back to the events in the clearing. The remembered sensation combined with the scent and the nearness of him ignited something in her belly, right beneath the spot his head was resting on.

He started, and pushed up on his arms as his nostrils flared. The gold of his eyes seemed to war with the hazel, and he made a huffing rumble deep in his chest as he looked down at her.

Following instincts, she curled up into him, rubbing up against his chest as he rumbled, a small but needy whine escaping her. His tongue flicked out towards her face but he turned away at the last moment, withdrawing from her and fumbling at the drawer in the box beside the cushion.

She curled her legs under her as she watched him through her lashes, as he took another pair of hand coverings from the wooden box and pulled them on, then pulled on his white second skin that had lain in a heap on top the box.

When he turned back to her, he reached for her and turned her, pressing her hands to the cushion as he leaned over her, touching once more at thighs and back and arms.

His scent changed the instant he pressed against her, and his teeth sank into the base of her neck before she could even register the change from mild to intense arousal.

She yelped as his teeth broke her skin again, and whimpered as his rough tongue lapped at the raw bite. As he licked, she shivered and shuddered at the nearness of him, his scent was overwhelming, and the intensity of his arousal triggered a matching fire beneath her skin, aided by the strangely familiar tingling sensation she felt where he lapped and licked at the bite.

The tingling intensified and she felt... a rush of emotion swirling into her. His emotions... a jumble of feelings, that she belonged to him, that she always had... that her defiance had upset him, but also that he had enjoyed showing her how things stood... had enjoyed asserting himself properly, both as the hazel-eyed man and as the male with the golden eyes, and had also enjoyed just being with her, the images of the fire and the water tub flickered into her mind.

After the initial flurry of emotion, she received an emotion from him that she did not understand, he was grateful for what she had done and... that he loved her. She whined in confusion, what had she done? He drew back from her neck, stopping the flow of raw and intense emotion, but did not release her. It was then that she could feel the heat of him through the thin barrier of her second skin, every inch of him that was plastered against her, his chest warm against her back, his thighs pressed against her, his big hands holding her arms.

She shuddered as the heady scent of his arousal washed over her again, and unconsciously she pushed back against him, grinding into him, her body asking for what it needed without her mind's direction.

He chuffed at her and without thinking she tipped her head and bared her neck towards him and leaned forward, angling her hips upward. She felt him shudder himself, at her movement, and she whimpered softly to encourage him.

He wrapped his hand in her hair and gripped her neck, pressing her shoulders down against the cushion. When he released his grip on her, she remained where he'd placed her. Three times he'd defeated her, she wasn't foolish enough to fight him another time. Not yet at least. Not when all she could smell was him, all she could taste was his heavy scent on her tongue, all she wanted was him, filling her and covering her... and with her, in every way he could be.

She felt movement behind her and then felt his hands running up and down her back, cupping her buttocks and kneading her flesh with his strong fingers. She twitched as his fingers dipped between her legs, brushing over her sex, stroking gently before shifting forward and pressing lightly and drawing a shivery moan from her.

His hand slipped away, his palm brushing down the back of her thighs and then sliding forward and trailing up the corded muscles before brushing across her belly, feather light and burning hot.

A whine built at the back of her throat as his palms, his fingers, his thumbs, brushed across her skin, rubbing his scent across her skin, slowly and tenderly covering every inch of her, leaving her a panting bundle of super-heated nerves that jangled and jumped every time he hit a sensitive spot, when his palm brushed across her nipple, when his finger slipped into and then out of her panting mouth. She could barely think as the whines escaped, her skin, her entire body, on fire from his touch.

He shifted on the cushion, and slipped one hand back between her legs, touching the damp and burning flesh lightly.

She shuddered again, and mewled helplessly as he began pressing and stroking, swirling his fingers across the tingling node and evoking sensation that left her trembling and whimpering, while his other hand reached under her and tugged at her nipples, first one and then the other. The sharp tugging sent delicious sensation straight to her groin and without thinking she arched her back, pressing herself further into his hands.

As the tempo of his fingers increase, and he began sliding one, then two, then three fingers into her, she lost track of everything, running purely on instinct, overwhelmed by the powerful scents of their arousal and the intensity of his touch on her sensitive skin. She couldn't think, could barely even breath as he worked her higher and higher.

Suddenly he pulled both hands from her and gripped her hip tightly with one hand. Before she could react, he lined himself up with her opening and slid into her, all the way until she could feel his thighs pressed against her. The slide of him as he entered was exquisite and she cried out in pleasure as he filled her.

As his hips began to rock into her, he leaned forward and pressed his fingers against her lips. She opened her mouth obediently and tasted herself, and him, on the digit that he placed between her lips. As he continued to stroke slowly in and out of her, she realised the hand covering was made from thin leather, which only enhanced the taste of them. She moaned against his palm as he added a second and third finger between her lips.

Pulling her towards him with the other hand, his angle changed slightly and the sudden intense pleasure caused her to bite down, embedding her teeth into the leather cover. He swatted her back lightly to catch her attention and she let go, flushing and whimpering to realise that she had just bitten him.

He leaned forward and wrapped his hand in her hair again, using his grip to both hold her down and turn her head so that he could nip at her lip and cheek with his teeth. The further change in angle ripped an intense groan from her, and she unconsciously spread her knees further apart, trying to allow him even more access.

She couldn't see it, but he grinned savagely at her reactions to him. Her mind might not remember him at the moment, but her body did, and he was happy to give her body what it wanted, despite her current lack of control over her skin. He continued to thrust into her wet heat, rougher and deeper, as she shivered and moaned under him.

Short gasps of air were all she could manage as the slick heat of him sent shivers throughout her body, and as her muscles began to clench around him, he leaned into her once again and sank his teeth into the muscle of her shoulder through her second skin, the pleasure-pain tipping her over the edge into a sea of white-hot pleasure that wracked her entire body. As she stiffened, he let out a groaned non-growling sound around her flesh in his mouth and shuddered at his own release.

They hung there, curled over on the cushion, as the shivers and shocks coursed through their bodies, their skin twitching, their limbs hanging limply. Neither moved as they slowly came down from the high he had given them.

Finally, he released her shoulder from his teeth and straightened, sliding from her slowly. She whimpered at the loss of his warmth against her back and the fullness from between her legs. She frowned suddenly, an elusive thought skittering across the edge of her mind... something... something was not good about that place between her legs... but... she couldn't recall why being touched there was to be avoided... nothing had happened the previous day either... why it mattered she could not grasp. Her hazy mind struggled, trying to catch that moth-like thought that would not settle, until she looked over her shoulder and saw the man reach between his legs and slowly draw a pale scrap of second skin down and off the flesh that hung there.

As she watched him work the second skin down, she realised why she felt afraid and uncomfortable: her second skin did not cover that part of her. Like her face, the place between her legs was open, and she remembered the woman's warning to be careful of those exposed places. She could not recall, in her lassitude, just why that was the case, just that something bad would happen if she were touched there. Forgetting entirely that they had coupled more than once, she whimpered unconsciously in fear for this man, and his hazel eyes snapped up to meet hers.

He reached out with his gloved hand and stroked her face, running his fingers down her neck and over the rapidly healing bite.

He spoke to her then, the non-growling sounds that she did not understand, and then chuffed at her gently when he saw her confusion. She smelt satisfaction flowing from him, and no pain, and she sighed in relief. As he tossed the scrap of second skin to the side, she pushed herself up onto her knees and turned into him, carefully covering her face with her hair as she pressed her cheek to his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and rumbled reassuringly to her as she nestled into him. Lowering them both back to the cushion, he pulled her close and let his eyes close, content to have his mate back at his side once more.

He held her for long minutes, before leaning back and brushing her hair back and whispering to her, "I love you, Marie."

As the sounds washed over her, she felt the woman awaken and stretch in her mind, unleashing a hot rush of memory. The man, currently curled around her, was her mate! How could she not know him? How could she deny him? Small wonder he had been angry with her, she had rejected him. She shivered violently at the thought, but the woman, her female human part, her Marie-Rogue-human, reached for her, wrapping her in a warm wash of approval, pushing away the self-recrimination for having acted towards him as she had, washing away her horror at having rejected her mate. She felt her woman, no, she felt her Marie, take stock of the situation, of the delicate soreness of her body that gave mute testament of the ferocity of their passion, both in and out of the bed. A fresh rush of approval and satisfaction swirled around her as Marie showed her in the best language for her, just how much the woman delighted in what she had done. Marie was proud of her, and she relished that feeling.

"Thank you," the woman spoke the non-growling sounds in her mind, and she understood them, and had a sense that the human woman was more than pleased with the outcome of her experiment, and that possibly, this would not be the last time that Marie allowed her to come out and play. And now that the human part of her was awake, many things that had confused her, suddenly made sense, suddenly had names and places in her world. A pleased rumble escaped her, just before she relinquished control of their body, and curled up to rest.

Marie shivered slightly at the wonderful sensations that still coursed through her body, before flipping the switch that turned her skin off. The feral in her mind did not yet have that control, which thus required the use of the special body suit that one of the professor's associates had made for her. She didn't know the man personally, but everyone knew Tony Stark was a genius, and apparently he could design anything, even a body suit for an untouchable woman that was both durable and thin enough to barely mask sensations at all. And as a bonus had fingertip slits for the small claws that her feral form sported. She was immensely grateful to him, her experiment would not have been possible without him.

As her eyes shifted, the intense green shade dominating once more, Logan looked at his wife, his mate, in confusion.

"What happened?" he asked her, "I was so worried when ya disappeared! And when I found ya... Jesus fucking Christ! I thought someone mind-wiped ya!"

She reached over and stroked his cheek, running her fingers through his side-burn tenderly.

"I'm not sorry. It was the only way, sugar," she spoke softly. "You needed the release, you've been on a knife edge for weeks. Used to be, you'd up and hit the fights, be gone for some weeks. But now... you won't go, you won't let go, you won't... you won't let me help you!"

She glared at him, half frustration and half exasperation. "This was the only way I could think, the only way to force him out past your control and let him have the release he needed so badly. He was desperate. And so were you."

She leaned their foreheads together and spoke so close to his lips he could almost taste the words, "She had to forget... I had to forget. Her defiance, that was the only thing that would make him angry enough to do what he needed to do. And it hadta ring true. Hadta smell true. And I'm the only one can give you that, sugar. You know that. You know you don't have to protect me either. I can take it, I can handle anything you can throw my way. You know that as well. But... you won't admit it to yourself. You won't just let him go and trust that he won't hurt me. He never would. He loves me as much as you, in his own way."

He huffed in frustration, but touched her face equally tenderly. "I know. You're right. But... he's never really let go. I mean all the way, with ya before. You're my Marie. How can I not worry? It's hard for me to... let go... too many years spent doin' the exact opposite... hard to break habits like that," he grumbled.

She grinned at him, "Oh I know, sugar, I know! I'm the control queen, y'all need serious help if you don't know that!"

He couldn't help but grin back at her. She was right. She usually was in things like this.

He looked down, remembering something. "Ya know... he asked for help."

She looked at him in confusion, "What d'ya mean, sugar?"

He huffed out a breath in embarrassment, "Damnit, I hate when you're as right as you are!" He bit out the words. "He asked for help in the clearing, when that little minx finally broke my control. When he had her bent over on that grass... he knew her skin... your skin... he knew it was active, cause he'd bit her, felt the draw. He didn't know how to take her when he saw that getup doesn't cover up... you know..."

He seemed almost too embarrassed to say the words. When was Logan ever too embarrassed to say those word? But for once Marie let him off the hook, instead of needling him mercilessly as she might have if the circumstances were different.

"Yeah, the suit splits between my legs. Figured that it would be too complicated for her if we made flaps or some such. So how'd he ask for help?" she returned to the original point he'd been trying to make.

"He stopped, and asked me what to do. Fucking genius me had an old condom in the back pocket of those jeans."

"Oh really?" she quirked an eyebrow at him, "And just how old was this condom?"

"Old enough," he grunted, "those jeans've been out here a few years, since the last time I came out to the cabin."

"Fine, I forgive you carrying around a condom or two, just don't make a habit. I'll think you're steppin' out on me!" and she wiggled her eyebrows at him and tried to shape her face into a leer while not ruining it by laughing.

He smacked her butt lightly, "As if he'd ever let me, even if I'd any inclination in that direction!"

She snorted in response, and grinned. Yup, there was no way Wolverine would let his human do any such thing. Not that, as Logan had said, he had any desire to. Plus, with her senses as enhanced as his, she'd smell it on him the minute he strayed, as he would smell it on her. Neither felt the need to even test those waters.

They lay against each other for a while, content to just be.

"How'd ya do it anyway?" he finally asked.

"Do what? Forget?" she responded.

He nodded, and a wicked glint appeared in her eyes.

"Well, I got a little help from ol' Charlie boy," and a grin of pure evil split her face.

"Ya didn't!" he exclaimed in horror.

"Oh yes I did," she laughed, before turning serious again. "You needed it, sugar, more than you realise. We're your friends, before anything else, and we thought it was worth a shot. Charles loves you too, you know."

He grunted. He knew it, but still, the idea of her asking Charles to help her set this up just felt, wrong somehow, like the gentleman he was used to seeing had hidden depths that he had been oblivious to. It would be an interesting conversation, the next time the two of them were alone... maybe... though knowing the professor, nothing would be mentioned unless Logan brought it up himself.

She trailed a finger down his arm, and spoke softly, "You know, she's not nearly as independent as Wolverine... we're more closely connected maybe. You and Wolverine, you've had long years to become who you are, she hasn't had that... but, she's not some fragment broken off from the you in my head, or the Wolverine in there either. When you touched me that time, you put a bit of you in here," and she touched her chest, "along with the bits in here," and she tapped her head.

"Her, she comes from the part of me that changed, that took feral. The healing, that's different, that's something like Erik's, or Bobby's, or the rest, but the senses, the feral, that's physical, that's me now, in my bones," she looked at him searchingly. "Does that even make sense, sugar?"

He chewed it over in his mind for a time, and nodded, "Yeah, darlin', it does. Feral is what I am, who I am, not what I do. 'Swhy Wolverine's ready up here," and he tapped his own head, "even when I'm drugged or unconscious... or someone sticks one 'a them collars on me."

She sighed, "That's what I thought. It's also why I avoid touching any ferals other than you." She gave a delicate shudder.

"Better not be touching ya," he growled.

Smiling, she threw out another thought, "She and I, we talked about it. She was worried 'bout both of you. She agreed to take control for a while, even suggested the triggers, but I think she forgot that, she was none too happy when she remembered rejectin' y'all back in the forest."

He rumbled a half-laugh, "I wasn't too happy about it either, darlin'!"

Thinking a moment, he commented, "She seemed less... human... though. Didn't say a word the whole time..."

Marie nodded, "Yeah, I think, when Charles and me and her, when the three of us set it up..." she broke off. "You know how I put the folks up here into boxes, give 'em all their own 'room' in the building so to speak?"

He nodded, she'd explained it to him once, years ago.

"Well, we sort of... put her on the roof... or outside... or something, and put a wall around the rest, kinda... locked her out. Charles helped me set up a trigger, couple triggers really." She held up one finger, "First was if nothing else, after a week-ish I'd wake up." She held up a second finger, "Second was whatcha said, sugar. Figured, you'd only say that if things were going right." She held up a third finger, "If someone had said 'Blackbird calling', that was a trigger too, just in case a mission came. Even though I'm on leave for a couple weeks."

She fell silent, and he waited patiently for her to continue. He hadn't even known that was possible. But then, he still didn't know how Marie handled half the things she did. If he'd had that many people running around in his head he'd have clawed them out years ago. Him and Wolverine were plenty enough.

"I think, when we locked 'Marie' away, cause we're so connected, we took away a lot of the 'human', like you said. She didn't know what loads of things were, didn't remember about doors and boots and cabinets... but she remembered bars... But you know the best part, she didn't remember you in her head, but you were familiar enough that she was willin' ta give you a chance. Willin' ta try trustin' ya. Wouldn't have been willin' to do half the things she did otherwise, the little minx."

She leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose before finishing, "See? No matter what, we'll always find each other."

He hrumphed at her and glowered.

"Plus, Wolverine didn't seem to mind, once she acknowledged him again, so why should you? I'm fine, we're both fine, in fact it was damn good. I expect a repeat performance one of these days. The sparring.... AND the make-up sex!"

He gaped at her, and then wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly. God he loved this woman, his woman, and to know that she would go that far, give up her precious control because he needed it, warmed him in a way that little else could.

He leaned forward and kissed her, slowly and languidly, showing without words how much her words had touched him.

As they parted, she poked him in the chest.

"Now that I'm back, com'ere and give me some more a' that lovin' y'all been handing out, and this time lose the plastic and help me outta this suit, don't need either now," and she held her hand out to him, her love shining from every inch of her.

He took her hand and kissed her knuckles, "Glad to, darlin', glad to!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this little bit of mostly fluffy Rogan. I don't see a whole lot of Feral!Marie and I really (really really) enjoy reading it as well Feral!Logan, so, if anyone has recs, I'd be grateful!
> 
> reviews = mocha double chocolate swirl coffee ice cream! LOL!
> 
> And thanks to everyone who has commented and kudoed. You guys made my day many times over :)


End file.
